Reading Between the Lines
by kawasai
Summary: Foreman is oblivious.


House and Wilson came out – came out! – one morning in mid-July.

Foreman isn't sure quite what prompted this, although he suspects it may be part of some cunning and possibly illegal plot on House's part.

When Foreman arrived at the hospital one Friday morning, the final draft of his report on their latest patient in hand, he met Chase at the fourth-floor coffee machine.

"Is our one broken?" Foreman asked, looking at the machine with a certain wariness.

"No," Chase said, "but House and Wilson are in there."

"Right," Foreman said. He'd always known that Chase was a coward, but really – avoiding his boss and his boss's best friend for fear of humiliation? That was going a bit far even by Chase's standards.

He headed off towards the conference room to get some _real _coffee. Behind him, Chase made some sort of dim protesting noise – possibly the coffee machine had broken.

House and Wilson, when he arrived, were both looking rather rumpled. House was drinking coffee and looking sleepily relaxed. Foreman blinked. House, relaxed? He looked discreetly around for a used syringe.

"I should really be getting back to my office," Wilson said.

"Bloody patients," House muttered, then drained the rest of his coffee. "Foreman, go find Chase and Cameron. Wilson, meet me later?"

"Sure," Wilson said, and gave House a warm grin.

House rolled his eyes, looking rather pleased.

Wilson made his way out across the balcony. Foreman poured some coffee and paged Cameron and Chase.

They turned up ten minutes later, Cameron shooting a half worried, half hurt look at House. No doubt he'd insulted her morals again.

***

At lunchtime, House and Wilson were the subject of many stares. Foreman, used to this sort of thing – although he, Cameron and Chase had received a share of the dirty looks the second time they'd broken the MRI machine – got himself some pasta and sat in a corner with his report.

Chase and Cameron joined him after a few minutes, gossiping furiously about something or other. Foreman listened with interest as they discussed that night's hospital charity event, but gave up when they started placing bets on, mathematically, how low-cut Cuddy's top would be.

That afternoon they diagnosed a patient with second-stage lymphoma – House crowing all the while – and then the patient started fainting randomly and coughing blood and they spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening diagnosing her.

When they finally had her on the right meds and were convinced that she wasn't going to crash, Foreman decided to give up on going home to get changed. House and Wilson apparently had too, but Chase – audaciously – actually borrowed House's motorbike in order to take Cameron home, leave her to get changed, change himself and then bring her back to the hospital.

Foreman found his date – a nurse from Oncology who hadn't had anyone to go with and who'd been happy to have a partner for the evening – and they spent a few minutes making small talk. Then she wandered off to join her friends and Foreman went got a drink.

Cameron and Chase came half-running in, laughing like lunatics and looking thoroughly wind-ruffled, and made a bee-line for Foreman.

Chase's suit, shirt and tie clashed – as ever – but Cameron's blue dress swirled prettily around her legs and they were both smiling.

"House's motorbike goes so _fast_," Cameron exclaimed.

"It's pretty cool," Chase said. "He was in a bloody rotten mood, but he actually _lent _us something. Well, it was Wilson gave us the keys, but whatever."

"He'll never notice," Cameron said.

House and Wilson were wandering on the far side of the room, talking about something or other with what looked like their usual deadpan but truly awful sense of humour.

"Ha," Foreman said. "Neither of them have dates." He looked over at Emily, exchanging cheerful chatter with her friends.

"…yeah," Cameron said.

"That's kinda the idea," Chase said. He looked over at the punch table. "Let's get drinks."

***

"Cake," Cuddy said. "Wilson brought it." She offered Foreman a generous slice of chocolate cake.

"Is it his birthday?" Foreman bit into the cake.

Cuddy laughed. "It might as well be."

Wilson was still talking to House, who was now spinning a yellow yoyo with the air like a six-year-old with a new trick.

"Hmm," Foreman said, and took another bit of cake. "This is really good."

"Wilson is an excellent cook," Cuddy said, smiling, and floated away in a cloud of charisma and low-cut top.

***

By midnight, House and Wilson had vanished back to House's office, no doubt to plan some prank or other. Chase and Cameron, in an alcove, were holding tape measures up to their eyes and squinting past them at Cuddy. Cameron appeared to be holding a sextant.

Emily, back on Foreman's arm, beamed up at him. "Thank you for a lovely evening," she said.

"You're very welcome," Foreman said gravely. "I had a good time, too."

As they were turning to go, House and Wilson returned to the hall. Once again, they both looked a little rumpled. Wilson's hair was mussed, and he flattened it hastily when Cuddy whispered something in his ear. House was making his rather infantile 'spoil my fun' face.

"They're so cute together," Emily exclaimed. Foreman blinked over at the little group. Cuddy was straightening House's collar and he was looking both amused and pleased. Wilson looked ever so slightly irritated, but his face smoothed out when Cuddy stepped back and said something with what looked like her typical, bald-faced Cuddy charm.

"I suppose so," Foreman said. Emily giggled again.

"I should drop you home," he volunteered. She gave him a radiant smile. "Thank you!"

***

The next morning, after Emily had left for the early-morning nursing shift, Foreman headed back to work.

Chase and Cameron were sitting the lobby, consulting complicated-looking mathematical charts, including what looked like a drastically mutated sine graph.

"Hi," Cameron said. "Wilson and House are in the conference room again."

"Right," Foreman said, and headed for the lift. He heard Chase yelling something after him, Australian vowels carrying across the room, but the lift doors were already closing and he couldn't quite catch it. Maybe there was a case they were trying to sell to House using some strange reverse-psychology method.

Foreman passed the coffee machine and turned the corner into the diagnostics office, heading for the sideboard which held all their mugs.

From behind him, there was a loud thump. He looked round, wondering what House had done this time.

House and Wilson were kissing passionately in the next room. Foreman looked quickly away, thinking with some horror than he was never going to be able to erase the memory of his boss with another man's tongue in his mouth from his mind.

This was crazy! Completely out of the blue! He'd known they were close friends, but…

"I told you not to go in there," Chase said. In the next room, House and Wilson looked up. Wilson blushed and House looked at Foreman and Chase with irritation as Wilson fled out across the balcony and back into his own office.

"What – " Foreman said blankly. "When did they start – "

"Making out?" Cameron filled in, putting some horrific mental images into Foreman's head. "At least ten minutes ago."

"No, I mean – being gay!" Forman said.

Chase choked on his coffee. "What? Are you pulling my leg?"

"Will somebody please just tell me what's going on?" Foreman said desperately to the ceiling.

"Well, I would have thought it was obvious," Chase said. From his office, House made a number of demonstrative and rather obscene gestures. "I mean," Chase said, "they're kind of blatant. Or they have been since yesterday. And it wasn't exactly hard to spot before that."

Right," Foreman said. "Um. Was it?"

"You," Chase said with the air of one reaching an epic conclusion, "have no gaydar."


End file.
